Yesterday afternoon I headed over to the dog-park to let Eddie run wild with the natives; ie...other stupid dogs. It was a beautiful day here in sunny Colorado. Perked up to 50 degrees, which is downright balmy. If you have ever experienced frigid weather you may know that snow which warms,melts, then promptly refreezes every evening to make a beautiful glazy surface. With that bit of info...I was standing at the dogpark happily looking at the Continental Divide, glancing over every few minutes to see Eddie trying to hump some other dog...daydreaming about vacation at the beach when ....
WHAM BAM Thank YOU MAM!!!!
I was thrown tail over keister, I awoke looking at the pretty blue sky...only remembering horrible popping noises and not really knowing what was happening. I laid there until Eddie was drooling over me. Then I slowly pushed myself up, just to see the guy with the little black dog, who had plowed me over, walking out the gate.
Hello, I was just knocked out by your dog?!!!!
He didn't even help me up...or see if I was alive for that matter. There was no one else there. I could have been dead! But., alas, I wasn't. I cried all the way home, gasping for breath, surely more upset about the fault in his human nature than the damage to my ribs. I went to the doctor who told me exactly what I all ready knew. Nothing punctured, just bruised...physically and emotionally.
Take it easy...here's some Vicodan...no running until your body heals.
He didn't even check to see if I was alive.